


Details and Landscapes

by wolver



Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolver/pseuds/wolver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one with the porn, basically.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>“Edelman, if you fuck up your ankle--”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Details and Landscapes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this came from, but I'm blaming my bffff for being a horrible enabler. This wouldn't exist without her. Anywho, tried something new and this was the result.

Half-asleep with the television on and replaying collected highlights from that week in football, Julian was sprawled comfortably in his bed. He was settled in for the night and ready to get the fuck to sleep already. His ankle was pleasantly on the verge of being numb and everything was all good after watching his team knock the Texans back down a peg or two.

The only way the day could have been better was, obviously, if he had actually been on the field. Fucking broken ankles. Being crippled sucked so much. He snorted to himself and slung an arm over his eyes.

“ _Dude_ , are you sleeping?”

Julian startled awake then winced when he jolted his ankle against the bed. Painful, so very painful. He turned an impressive glare on Wes, narrowing his eyes dangerously. 

“No, I’m trying out for hockey, _what do you think I’m doing_?”

“Wow, you sure get grumpy when people surprise break into your house,” Wes replied, sounding way too awake for this time of night. And after playing a game. He paused to contemplate Julian and added, “You’d be a shitty hockey player, don’t let them draw you over to the dark side. The ice side? It’s cold! It’s cooooold! Nooo, God save us all.” Then deposited himself onto the bed in a pile of limbs with a grunt. 

Julian steeled himself as the bed jerked. “Man, are you drunk already?”

“Already?” Wes lifted his head and frowned at him. “It’s after midnight. Time to be properly sloshed. But no, not drunk. Just a good mood. Asshole.”

Julian just rolled his eyes and yawned. 

After some shifting around to kick off shoes and a sweatshirt, Wes burrowed in close to Julian’s side, throwing an arm across his stomach. Clinging like the big octopus that he was. Well, more like a midget octopus. Julian smirked a bit to himself, looping an arm around his shoulders.

A minute of silence was probably the most Julian could ask for right now. Not with Wes practically vibrating against his side with energy. “What’s up? Did you watch me be awesome or were you too busy moping?”

Julian grunted. “I saw you dropping a bunch of passes if that’s what you mean by awesome.”

“Hey,” he protested. “It was not my fault our stupid quarterback threw the ball wrong!”

Julian opened his mouth to answer when a familiar voice replied from the hallway,

“That’s right, blame the quarterback when you have the butterfingers. Real mature, Wes.”

Tom strode into the room, shaking his head in fond exasperation. Made a beeline for the free space on the bed while Wes complained how it totally was not his fault, and Tom ignored him, thanking God Julian had a large bed and more or less collapsed in exhaustion. He buried his face in the pillow with the intent to sleep for the rest of the week. 

Julian, yet again, gritted back the pain when the bed shook. He hated both of them sometimes.

 

There was a nice lull while Wes got distracted with something or the other about Tom and Julian closed his eyes. The small body squirming and murmuring at his side was almost pleasant, and easily ignored.

“C’mon, Tommy.”

“Later. And I said don’t call me that.”

Another murmur and some shifting at his side before he heard, “Julian.”

Wes’ hand fisted the front of his shirt, and Julian blinked his eyes open, bleary-eyed and he blinked a few times trying to snap out of his sleepy haze. There was a familiar look in the receiver’s eyes and Julian was about to tell him there was no way - was this what they were talking about? - but when he opened his mouth Wes surged up to kiss him. His resistance quickly crumbled with the feel of a warm, wet mouth against his own.

A hand came up to cup the back of Wes’ head and he fisted what hair he could, angling him to deepen the kiss. Any traces of being tired soon disappeared and a low buzz of arousal took its place. Julian’s hands were soon tugging at the smaller man, trying to bring him closer, and Wes followed his lead, shifting to straddle Julian’s lap.

He hissed when Wes rolled his hips. Fuck, it’d been awhile.

“Edelman, if you fuck up your ankle--” Tom grumbled into the pillow, except it sounded muffled and the opposite of the threatening he was probably aiming for there. Mostly he sounded like a disgruntled puppy.

Wes snickered.

Julian cracked an eye to see Tom’s face still buried into the pillow. With his mouth being occupied and all, he simply reached out to punch him on the shoulder. Tom grunted and punched him back, hard. Julian laughed into the kiss. 

“Prick,” he gasped, pulling away from Wes’ searching mouth.

“It’s just a broken ankle, it’s not like he hurt his dick,” Wes pointed out. He dropped down to attach his lips to Julian’s neck, mumbling, “Besides, if it was his dick, I’d just go for his ass. Win-win.”

“You’re not touching--” But Julian choked on his words because those were teeth against his neck, and okay, they felt good. A shiver ran down the length of his spine, breaking out into goosebumps across his skin. He reached down to hoist Wes higher on his lap, until their cocks were aligned just so-so, and he sighed when the smaller man rocked down again. “Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged.

As tired as Tom was, and that was pretty damn tired (throwing all those touchdown passes did that to a man), there was no way that he could completely tune out the two beside him. Not when Wes made those soft breathy sounds that always went straight to his dick. Every single time. He turned his head towards them and watched through half-lidded eyes.

And Julian-- how sensitive he was, responsive to every touch, to every sound, and the way that his body moved in time with Wes’. It was gorgeous. They both were.

Usually he’d encourage them, but he was afraid Julian was going to wreck his ankle even worse and the professional in him said _no, don’t touch_ , but the rest of Tom? Said yes. Fuck, yes please. Wanted Julian spread out on the bed, taken apart by two pairs of hands, two mouths, and a dick crammed somewhere--

If something happened, well, this was not Tom’s fault. Wes started it, blame him.

Tom swallowed hard, his dick twitching in his pants. His body tired, but not that tired, it seemed.

He watched as Wes’ hand blindly reached out for contact, and Tom met him halfway, lacing their fingers together easily. And after a few beats, there was a tug on his hand before it was gone and Tom’s eyes darted up to see Wes watching him with smirk on his lips. 

“You know you want in on this action,” Wes murmured.

Julian took the distraction as an opportunity to rid Wes of his shirt, tossed it away blindly before his hands mapped out smooth muscle. Paused to flick his nails against nipples and admired the choked whimper it drew.

“I said later,” Tom countered, eyes following Julian’s hands, stubborn despite his obvious interest.

“Roll over.”

“What? Why?” He narrowed his eyes at Wes.

“I wanna see your big boner, c’mon.”

There was a snort from Julian and Tom buried his face back in the pillow with a groan. 

 

It had completely slipped Julian’s mind that he was supposed to be careful. Went right out the window and flew away for no man’s land. That was, until he tried to shift and jolted it, sending a streak of pain up and down his leg. He hissed in pain and turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut as he rode out the wave of fucking agony.

_Fucking. Ankle._

“Shit, sorry, sorry,” Wes rushed out, stilling instantly, because it hadn’t been his intention to actually hurt him, fuck, and he reached up to stroke soothingly along Julian’s jaw. “I’m sorry, we can stop, man.”

Wes glanced over to see Tom watching with a frown.

“No, no,” Julian forced out and turned his head back. “It’s good. Fuck, don’t blue ball me, bro.”

“Your priorities. They fucking suck.” Tom stated and rolled his eyes but he pushed himself up onto his knees.

“I am just trying to get laid!” Wes protested and then did a doubletake to admire the straining bulge between Tom's legs. Not interested, yeah fucking right.

Snorting, but not complaining any further - since he had no right to speak, not after deciding to help the idiots (where, oh where would they be without him?) - he yanked Wes towards him, kissing him hungrily. The younger man melted into the kiss with a moan that caused Tom’s dick to twitch. He resisted the urge to cup his dick and squeeze.

“Off,” he mumbled instead, biting at Wes’ lower lip. “Have an idea.”

Obediently, Wes moved back onto the bed.

Now. Tom eyed his idiotic crippled teammate, who was watching with a hungry look that even the pain couldn’t diminish, and with firm but delicate motions he tugged down Julian’s sweats over his slim hips, down his legs and one foot, then, without incident, the other. Took a moment to debate how to do this and have the most success. Success being, that Julian did not further injure himself in the next however many minutes.

Tom always loved a good puzzle.

Tom settled between Julian’s spread thighs and he eased Julian’s knees to hook over his shoulders, his hips lifted from the bed. And when Tom was sure that the man was as stable as he was going to be, he dipped down to lick a firm line from the base of his cock to the crown.

“Don’t move or I use teeth,” Tom warned, grabbing Julian’s length and lifted it from his belly before he slowly swallowed him down.

“Oh fuck, shit,” Julian cursed, hands scrambling. One fisted in the sheets and the other grabbed a hold of Wes. His hips rocked unconsciously, too much feeling and yet not enough, and he forced them still when Tom huffed in warning at him. The barest hint of teeth.

Someone pushed up his shirt and a rough palm rubbed circles into his stomach, but Julian was too focused on trying to keep still. Not that he could really move all that much, what, with Tom’s secure grip on his hips and all. The teeth were nice though, in moderation, but he had no doubts that Tom would bite and bite hard if not listened to. Julian, well, found that really fucking hot - apparently he was friggin’ adrenaline junkie when his cock was involved, go figure.

Tom’s mouth was slow and steady, a scorching hot suction around his length, and it was so good, so so good that it was almost torture. 

“So hot,” Wes breathed.

And then Wes was kissing him, just on the side of rough that Julian fucking loved, and he groaned, gripping the sides of Wes’ face, fingertips gently digging in.

Lower down, Tom pulled back to suck at the head, his tongue firm against the sensitive bundle of nerves just underneath the crown, and he glanced up to see Julian distracted by Wes’ mouth. Good. He lined two fingers along Julian’s length before sliding his mouth back down, bobbed his head a few times before he pulled them away, damp with spit.

Maybe he should warn-- nah.

Tom smirked around the cock in his mouth and his fingers found the clench of muscle, pressing one in the first knuckle.

The body immediately tensed against the intrusion and Julian choked on a poorly concealed moan. “Fuck you, man,” he gasped out, “what’d I say about my--” His words cut off into another strangled moan, hips twitching helplessly as Tom pressed his finger in the rest of the way, curled it in search of that certain spot.

Already Julian’s hips were grinding down in search of more. He’d never admit it out loud, but Julian loved the attention to his ass. Probably also loved being a stubborn little shit about it, but that was neither here nor there.

Tom’s eyes flicked up to see Wes watching him with a smirk. “You dog,” he said, and Tom had to pull off before he choked laughing.

“Idiot,” his voice was breathless and rough. He sounded a wreck. Tom licked his lips, conscious of the way they were both staring at his mouth, and instead he looked down to watch the way that Julian’s ass clenched greedily around his finger. Tried to catch his breath, and his composure. More than anything he just wanted to throw Julian down and fuck him, but that wasn’t an option, not right now anyway.

There was shuffling and Tom looked back up, grunting when Wes attacked his mouth like he was starving for it. Kissed until his already air deprived lungs were screaming at him. He broke away with a gasp, panting roughly as Wes attached to his bottom lip and sucked. After a moment Tom nudged his head away.

“Suck his cock,” he murmured.

Wes made a quiet sound in agreement, and Tom watched as he leaned down to lap greedily at Julian’s cock. Paused to chase away the precome pooling on Julian’s stomach with his tongue before he swallowed down his length. 

“Ah,” Julian’s voice hitched, “more, more, want more, please--”

Tom worked in a second finger, sighing quietly at how tight he was and how much he’d love that around his cock, and Wes bobbed his head faster, making those obscene wet sounds. And Julian-- fuck, with these hitched half-sobs and broken moans that only picked up as he drew closer to release. It was like living a porno dream sometimes, and Tom had to snake a hand down to squeeze his own dick through his pants in an attempt to relieve the ache a bit. 

Fuck, he wanted to come.

“Close, shit I’m close, don’t stop,” he encouraged them with mindless babble, and Tom turned his head to kiss the inside of Julian’s knee before gently scraping his day old stubble against the sensitive inside of his thigh. Julian shuddered. The feel of Tom’s rough cheek in such an intimate place was more than enough to send him over the edge, and his ass tightened impossibly around those long fingers. Wes’ mouth worked him through it, swallowing what he could.

Wes pulled off with a wet pop and wiped his mouth. “Fuckin’ hot, but shit, I’m dying here.”

So was Tom. 

Julian just waved his hand about, still in his post-orgasm daze. Helpful.

“Hold on,” he said and gently slipped out his fingers. And after making sure that Julian was flat on the bed again without any further injury, he all but tackled Wes to the open expanse of bed. Shifted between his legs, hitching Wes’ hips up to grind against him.

“Gonna fuck me? C’mon Tommy, want you to fuck me,” Wes nearly whined and it was doing things to Tom. God, was that rough voice doing it for him. Enough that he didn’t even care about the lame nickname Wes loved using. “Want you so bad.”

Neither had the patience to take their time, or waste even precious seconds. No, they were much past that point and clothes were discarded, flung anywhere and everywhere, and Tom rose to his knees to reach for the lube and a condom in the bedside table. Fumbled to rip open the wrapper and then rolled it down his length. He slicked his fingers with lube and easily worked two inside Wes.

“That’s it,” Wes murmured, rolling his hips down. “Yeah, more.”

Three fingers and Wes was whimpering quietly, head tipped back against the pillow. His legs wrapped around Tom’s waist, trying to urge him to hurry the fuck up already.

“More,” he gritted out. “Fuck you, I can take it. Just dick me already, Jesus Tom.”

Julian snorted beside them, seeming to compose himself at an annoying time. “This is great,” he was saying, “I should watch you guys more often. What a show. Top notch acting. _Oh, baby, do me. Baby, make love to me, I need you. Oh please_ \--” He was cut off when Tom leaned over to roughly bite at his mouth and he whimpered helplessly because hey, that was kind of hot.

“Shut up,” Tom growled. “Or I’m going to dick you next.”

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Julian fought back his snicker and bit at Tom’s mouth in return. Those fucking lips were obscene. Gorgeous and red, and he eagerly sucked on the bottom one.

“Hey, what the fuck!” Wes grumbled and tugged on Tom. “My Tom. Fuck off, Julian, you selfish bastard.”

Tom chuckled, breaking away from the kiss and he looked down at Wes. If he had the patience he’d make the little bastard wait and beg; he looked so good spread out in front of Tom, his ass clenching helplessly around his fingers, desperate and needy for more. Another time. Tom had zero patience and pulled out his fingers, shifting his hips to line up his cock and he pushed home with a relieved groan.

“God, Wes,” he murmured, rolling his hips before he eased out and gently thrust back in.

Wes' breathing hitched as Tom's cock stretched him wide and he turned his head, pressing his cheek against the pillow as he tried to breathe. It felt so fucking good when Tom fucked him, and hell, even the times Julian gave topping him a try. Those weren't as often, but still just as awesome. Wes was an equal opportunity type of guy, after all; he loved being fucked.

He blinked a few times, watching absently as Julian managed to shift into a sitting position and as he scooted closer so he could kiss Tom. Wes swallowed a groan because he had a very nice view of the kissing, rough and messy and with lots of tongue. He watched until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. His head tipped back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as he rolled his hips down to meet Tom's thrusts.

Tom's grip on Wes' hips tightened and he panted against Julian's mouth.

"That's it," Julian murmured in encouragement, pulling away to kiss down the line of Tom's jaw. "Look at him take it, he loves your cock, loves being fucked so much."

"Fuck, Jules, _Wes_ ," Tom gritted out, his voice ragged and thick. 

With one last kiss against Tom's bare shoulder, Julian lowered himself to lie down on his side. His hand reached out and traced the expanse of Wes' chest, pausing to squeeze a nipple. There was a low whimper and he squeezed the other, rolling it between his fingers for a moment. He found something so arousing about watching Wes get fucked, and Julian’s cock weakly twitched, even though there was no way he’d be able to get hard again so soon. But he could still enjoy the show, and touch, hell yes. His hand slipped down to rub circles into Wes' stomach, feeling the muscles flutter.

Wes, for all his usual mouthing, wasn't all that loud in bed. It had thrown Julian off at first, but he soon realized that the better the fuck, the quieter Wes was. He had learned there were other ways to judge if Wes was enjoying himself. The way his breathing stuttered when a thrust was aimed perfect, the way his body arched from the bed, legs tight around a waist, to the way his eyes fluttered and he chewed on his kiss-swollen lips.

Tom released his grip on Wes' hips and folded forward, dropping down to his elbows. His arms tucked underneath Wes' shoulderblades and his hands curled up to grip his shoulders firmly, leaning down more to lock their lips together in a kiss where they mostly panted against each other’s mouth.

"Fuck, Wes, not going to last," Tom mumbled.

Now Wes' hand was shoving Julian's lower in a silent plea before his arms curled tightly around Tom’s neck. Julian’s fingers curled around the straining erection and stroked him with tight, quick movements of his hand. It wasn't long before there was the familiar shudder and a sharply inhaled breath, Wes’ release splattering Julian’s hand and their stomachs.

"Jesus, son of a--" Tom cursed when Wes' muscles constricted around him and he buried his face in the damp skin of Wes’ neck as his hips stuttered with his own release, hot and sticky in the condom.

After a moment Julian drew his hand away and wiped it clean on his shirt. Finally removed it, tossing it over the edge of the bed. He dropped back to the bed and yawned, looking back over at the two. Tom had discarded the condom and was moving to curl up against Wes' back.

Wes huffed when he saw Julian not immediately bridging the space between them. "I swallowed your jizz and you can't even give a cuddle? Weak, man." He sounded breathless and sated. Looked it, too.

Julian resisted the urge to smack a hand over his face. Tom just snorted and tightened his arm around Wes.

"That was a record two point five seconds of silence. I'm impressed," he snarked, but he was scooting closer, taking care of his ankle in the process. Wes just smiled and latched onto him like the midget octopus that he was.


End file.
